The Odalisque
by AuroraSkye79
Summary: AU Levy x Gajeel romance. In the desert kingdom of Fiore, Levy is an orphan with a gift for telling stories. Her life changes when she's sold to pay her masters debts and becomes a servant to the harem of the House of Fairy Tail. M for adult situations in subsequent chapters. Some Jerza, Miraxus, Gruvia later on.
1. Chapter 1: The Dancing Girl

**A/N:** **Inspired by ****yoyonaki's gorgeous doodle of Levy as a belly dancer**

**I legit froze when I first saw it it's so fripping gorgeous (and I'm sad I can't link to it laksjdhlakjsd but it's the cover art) I did belly dancing for years so I was obsessed with the idea and couldn't stop writing this. Plus, I'm obsessed with sassy Levy. Chapter one of many to come.  
**

**Prs to enjoy~**

* * *

The sun sank in the horizon, a bright orange sliver disappearing behind the skyline of gently rolling sand dunes. The summer air was hot and thick, cut incidentally by an occasional cool breeze. Levy loved the feel of the wind in her bare hair. She stood with her back pressed to the wall as she'd done countless times before, staring out at the immense vastness of the desert that surrounded her, wondering what lay on the other side of those hills.

"Levy!" Wendy's muffled voice called from inside.

Levy's little sister trotted outside, her face lit with a beatific smile. "Levy," she said. "The master and the guests are waiting."

She took one last breath, savoring the fresh scent of the wind, and carefully draped her veil over her hair. Holding her sister's hand, she headed back inside to the party. The little dancing bells around her wrists and ankles tinkled softly. Her fingers and toes were adorned with tiny gold rings that pinched as she moved. Her saffron silk caftan swirled as she walked through the kitchen and pushed passed the curtain to the inner chamber where the master and his friends awaited her.

The room was dim, lit only by the light of a handful oil lamps. Master Goldmine and his friends lay sprawled on the divan, laughing boorishly and smelling of the master's good liquor. Droy, the master's son, sat up, sobered by her entrance. Levy smiled to herself and took her place in the middle of the empty dirt floor.

The drums began and Levy's heart began to beat hard in her chest, in time to the rhythm. She began to sing a slow, mournful song of unrequited love. Levy's voice was small but sweet. It carried and filled the room like a spell. She moved gracefully, her small hips swaying gently, her hands floated like curls of smoke as she gestured and pantomimed the story of star-crossed love. One by one, the drunken men sat up and watched her curiously. Levy closed her eyes and fell into a trance. Her body moved as the music willed it. Her voice grew stronger, bolder. She let the song carry her away and she lost herself within the story of a romantic world that existed only in fairy tales.

The song came to an end and Levy's trance dissipated like a haze. Her eyes fluttered open to the whole room bursting and hooting in applause. Silently, she bowed her head to them as they tossed coins at her feet. Immediately, the players struck up another song, a festal drinking song that the whole room joined in on. Forgotten for now, Levy took the opportunity to escape to her room.

She turned down the snaking hallways, lifting up the hem of her caftan to free her stride. Wendy followed, struggling to hold all her older sister's earnings in her skirt and keep up with her. Pushing past the curtain, Levy walked straight to the small wooden chest by her bed. She slipped off her dancing bells, bangles and gold rings, and lay them in the silk-lined chest. Wendy helped Levy out of her costume, folding it carefully and storing it in the chest along with her jewelry. Levy slipped on a coarse shirt and bound her wild blue hair for bed.

Wordlessly, Levy climbed into bed. Wendy followed after, crawling into her sister's open arms.

"That was really beautiful," Wendy whispered. "Did the lovers really never meet again?"

"No," Levy said, smiling at her sister's curiosity. She kissed the crown of her head. "But have I ever told you the story of Scheherazade?"

"Yes," the younger girl chirped happily. "But tell me again! I love your stories, Levy."

"Ok," Levy said, settling in. "Once upon a time, there was a girl named Scheherazade. She loved books of all sorts: poetry, fairy tales, history, philosophy. Some have said she owned a thousand and one books and memorized them all-"

"She sounds like you," Wendy murmured.

Levy smiled. "Maybe a little. I'm not nearly as clever."

"You're the most clever person i've ever met," Wendy replied, her voice heavy with sleep. "Even more clever than papa."

Levy's smiled dropped, remembering their father who had disappeared three years ago to make his fortune and left them in the care of his old friend, Master Goldmine. The master was kind enough: all the girls had to do was cook for him and his son, buy the groceries, clean the house. Occasionally, when the Master entertained guests, Levy was asked to sing for his company. Master Goldmine had been like a father to her, but she wondered how different her life would be if her father had stayed.

Levy shifted in place, trying to shake off the uncomfortable memory. Wendy lay limp in her arms, and she knew her sister was fast asleep.

"Scheherazade owned a thousand and one books and memorized them all …" Levy whispered, continuing the story for herself, now.

* * *

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky and Levy adjusted her veil to shield her face from the blinding rays. Holding Wendy's hand, they trudged through the sand, trying to keep pace with the caravan.

For the last five days, Master Goldmine and his guests lead a trek through the desert towards Master Makarov's tents at the lower oasis. Fifteen camels laden with treasures to give to him in tribute, and fifty servants carting tents and luggage made for a slow pace.

Droy rode up to them on a dark brown stallion. Levy looked up to see his cocksure smile and shyly looked away.

"You must be tired," he observed, not so perceptively. "Don't worry, we should be there by nightfall tonight."

He tossed her a waterskin. "Take it, and share it between the two of you," he proclaimed, full of his own gallantry. With a swift kick, he spurred his steed and dashed off, back to his father's side at the head of the company.

Levy handed the skin off to her sister. "Drink," she insisted.

"Why is he so nice to you?" Wendy wondered aloud.

Levy smiled to herself. Droy was in love with her. She knew it. From the moment she began living in his father's house, he'd always pursued her. At first she'd caught him staring a little too long when she'd serve him meals or his afternoon tea. Then he'd found a way to spend time in the kitchen with the pretense of helping out. Then he'd begun following her out to run errands at the market. Soon, he was slipping her trinkets and other tiny gifts. In her daydreams, she dared to imagine that he'd ask her to marry him and she could escape this social limbo. That he'd be a kind husband who would take care of her and Wendy and she'd live a simple, pleasant life with him in a house at the edge of the city.

"Be careful of him," Wendy warned, breaking Levy's reverie.

Levy clicked her tongue and ignored her.

True to Droy's prediction, they arrived at Master Makarov's tents at sundown. At once, Levy and Wendy hurried to unload the treasures and prepare the tents with the other servants, while Master Goldmine and Droy went to supper with the other guests.

"I wish we were invited as well," Wendy said, wistfully. She held her growling stomach and continued to work dutifully.

Levy smiled. "Do you want me to grab you something to eat?"

"Maybe just a little something," Wendy replied.

"Sure."

Levy went around to the back of the tent to look for the makeshift kitchen, when she felt a hand catch her wrist and another close over her eyes. Before she could make a sound, Droy's voice hushed her in the darkness.

"It's me," he whispered, releasing her.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, surprised.

"Close your eyes," he said. Sensing her hesitation, he smiled. "Please?"

She did so. He waved a hand in her face to make sure she wasn't peeking, then pressed a tiny ball of Turkish ice cream to her lips. Realizing what it was, she devoured it quickly, licking the cream from his fingertips.

She chewed the cold, sticky confection and looked at him, wide eyed. "Dondurma?" she asked, her mouth still full. "I've never had this before!"

Droy laughed boyishly. "Do you like it?"

Levy giggled. "It's delicious."

He picked up her hands and stroked her tiny fingers. "Father wants you to dance tonight. He wants to impress the master. "

"Yes," Levy said, trying to be cheerful. She was so tired. "As he wishes."

"I hate it when you dance," he said quietly, his face darkening. "I don't want all those men staring at you. Like you're some common dancing girl."

"Your father wouldn't let anything happen to me," Levy assured him, gently. "I'm his ward, after all."

"If you were my wife, you'd never have to dance. Not for anyone else but me for the rest of your life."

Levy's heart skipped a beat.

"I mean it, Levy," he said, placing her small hand on his heart. "I'll ask my father. I don't care that you don't have a dowry. I love you."

"I would dance all night for the master if he would let us marry," Levy said, laughing.

"It would probably help," he joked.

"Then I'm going to go get ready," she declared, laughing. She kissed his cheek and turned to run back to her tent.

Wendy sat waiting for her in the servant's tent.

"I'm sorry, I forgot food!" Levy cried, remembering her reason for leaving in the first place.

"It's all right, Master Makarov's servants brought us some bread," Wendy replied, smiling.

"Help me get ready," Levy pleaded, tossing off her veil. "The master wants me to dance tonight."

Wendy pulled up the small wooden chest. "You've never looked so excited to perform before."

Levy slipped into the saffron dress and dancing bells, pulled on her veil and gold rings. "He's going to marry me, Wendy," she said, breathlessly.

"Who?" Wendy asked dispassionately.

"Droy!" Levy replied, laughing. "Don't you understand what that means for us? We don't have to wonder who the master would marry us off to. We don't have to live like second class citizens anymore."

"The master would never marry us off anyways," Wendy said. "He'd never pay our dowry out of his own pocket."

"That's why this is so perfect," Levy gushed. "This way, nothing at all has to change, except our status. I could send you to school, Wendy. You could become a scholar just like father. You could marry one of Makarov's sons if you wanted to. I've already saved money for a good dowry for you. You could do anything you wanted, Wendy."

A purple-haired girl pushed open the tent flap. "I was sent to retrieve Levy," she said simply.

"Yes!" Levy practically jumped up in excitement. She and Wendy followed the girl to the giant tent, lit brightly with hundreds of candles and oil lamps.

She took a breath to compose herself and walked up to the musicians. "Can you play something upbeat? A happy little beledi, maybe?"

The guitar player strummed a melody with an iron plectrum. "Something like this?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes, perfect!" Levy clapped her hands in excitement. She trotted out to the center of the floor, unaware of Droy amongst the throng of people. He was seated next to his father by the lilliputian Master Makarov, his eyes lit at the sight of her. Levy cracked a surreptitious smile as the company fell silent, waiting for her to start.

The drums began and Levy's arms snaked delicately. She spun around, her saffron skirt blooming around her, and flicked her hips flirtatiously. She glided and pirouetted around the room, a kittenish smile on her lips as she sang about two swans who fell in love. This was the last time she would dance. She felt triumphant and new. All her fatigue from the day's journey melted away and her whole body radiated happiness. Levy twirled and twisted, her voice was jubilant and sweet. Every gesture, every teasing look, every smile was alluring and playful. The whole room was captivated with her brilliance, hooting and clapping and calling for more.

When her song ended, she stood in her final pose, breathless with excitement as the whole room tossed coins at her feet. Wendy rushed forward to retrieve the money, and Levy could not suppress an exultant smile. He clapped for her eagerly, and Levy bowed to the four corners of the room before dashing back out with with her sister.

"That was incredible!" Levy laughed, cupping her flushed cheeks.

"You looked like you were having so much fun, Levy!" Wendy giggled. Her sister's happiness was infectious.

"Levy!" Droy called, running after them.

Levy turned to see her beau and ran to meet him. Droy caught her hands and kissed her gilded fingertips.

"You were brilliant," he gushed.

Wendy slinked away to give the two some space, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Did you ask your father?" Levy asked, her voice hopeful. "I don't want to waste another second if we don't have to."

"Not yet," he admitted. "He's half drunk, talking about nonsense with Master Makarov. Tomorrow, though."

"Do you promise?" she pleaded, sweetly.

"I promise."

Droy looked down at her, his eyes full of doe-eyed admiration. Levy lowered her eyes shyly, knowing what came next. She wondered if her first kiss would ever be as lovely and romantic as in her stories. He leaned in and Levy turned her face up to his.

"Oi," a deep voice growled. "Do you mind?"

Levy and Droy looked over to see a man emerging from the shadows walking towards them. He was tall, with long, wild black hair. Levy could see that he was frowning, the expression made all the more intimidating by the iron studs that framed his brow. As he slipped a wide iron plectrum into his belt, Levy recognized him as the guitar player from the party.

"S-sorry," Droy stuttered. His face dropped, his shoulders sank as he backed away from Levy. "I should go."

Levy watched incredulously as Droy slinked back to the tent, leaving her alone with this man. Frustrated at this rude man's timing, she gave a curt little bow to excuse herself and began to walk back to the servants' tent.

"I liked your little song," he called after her. "You dance real nice, girl."

Levy whirled around and glared at him, offended by his familiar tone. "I know," she replied haughtily, eying him disdainfully.

"You should come dance for me again, girl," he said, an arrogant, rakish grin on his face.

Levy scoffed at his audacity. "You couldn't afford me. Not a beggar like you."

"So you're for sale, then?" he joked, walking up to her. "How much did that little hairless shit pay you for your favors? I'll double it."

"Nothing at all," she said, acidly. "I love him. Maybe if you recognized two people in love you wouldn't be so quick to interrupt them like a boor."

"Maybe your lover should find a better place to woo you than by the piss pots," he replied, leaning down to have a better look at her face.

Levy backed away, and looked over and recognized a quartet of large brass chamber pots a few yards away. She was thankful for the cover of shadows as her face immediately colored. She turned with a huff and trudged back to her tent.

"What happened?" Wendy asked. "You look upset."

"It's nothing, darling," she assured her, smiling genially at her sister. "Help me out of these clothes and let's go to bed."

When Levy finally lay her head to sleep, she dreamed of Droy and her sister, and what the new day might bring for them all.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Master Makarov asked, his words thick with inebriation. "I thought you fell in."

Gajeel pushed past the heavy tent flap and walked over to the low table where Master Makarov, Master Goldmine, Droy and other guests sat playing a game of cards.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not so sorry. "I ran into your little dancing girl, Master Goldmine."

Master Goldmine burst out in drunken laughter. "Isn't she incredible? Sings like a lark and dances like a goddess. Where do you find a treasure like that? She's one in a million."

Everyone murmured in agreement.

"Are we gambling again?" Gajeel asked, surveying the table.

"Of course!" Master Goldmine cried, a little too enthusiastically. "What fun is it if I can't fleece your father out of a couple thousand jewels every year or so, or whenever it is we that we do this?"

"If I recall correctly," Gajeel said slowly. "You owe _me _a couple hundred thousand jewels."

Master Goldmine swallowed hard. "What's a few jewels between you and your father's old friend?"

"Gajeel," Master Makarov entreated his son, clicking his tongue disapprovingly.

"Forgiving debts is not how I made my fortune," Gajeel said dispassionately, picking up a gold coin from the table and rubbing it between his fingers.

"I-I don't have that with me ... " Master Goldmine stuttered.

"It's been over a year," Gajeel continued. "I'm sure there's interest to be paid, as well."

Master Goldmine broke into a cold sweat. Gajeel could sense the old man's embarrassment.

"We could call it even," Gajeel decided, at last. "Just give me your dancing girl."


	2. Chapter 2: Welcome to Fairy Tail

"What do you mean we're not going with you?" Levy cried.

Wendy wept softly, clutching her sister's sleeve to steady herself.

"I'm sorry," Master Goldmine said, helplessly. He turned his hands out in a gesture meant to placate her, but his apology only served to infuriate her further.

"I'm not your servant or a slave, you can't just give me away," she said, fiercely. Desperately now, "Please. Master. Droy-"

She looked over to the man who had promised to marry her two nights ago, who could no longer meet her eyes. His fists were clenched, his face turned away. She wanted to go to him, to beg him to save her ... but she fell silent, knowing that she could change nothing. Neither of them would save her. And she could not save herself.

"Coward," she hissed through gritted teeth.

A defiant tear rolled down her cheek, and she wiped it away bitterly. The two men slinked away without saying another word, too ashamed to say anything else, and Levy cursed them under her breath.

"Please don't cry," a gentle voice said, beside her. "You'll be taken care of very well, I promise you."

Levy looked over to see the purple-haired girl from that first night by her side. She smiled at Levy with a genuine sweetness. Levy could not smile but bowed her head at the girl in acknowledgment.

"Come," the girl beckoned, walking towards the caravan. Levy and Wendy followed dutifully behind her. They approached a covered wagon half filled with luggage and other sundry items. A girl with short, silvery hair was busy loading the cart with more items. As they approached, she looked up and smiled cheerfully at them.

"This is Lisanna," the purple-haired girl said. "And I'm Laki."

"Hello!" Lisanna waved cheerfully.

"We serve the harem of the house of Makarov," Laki said, a hint of pride in her voice.

Levy was not impressed. "You're slaves," she said, flatly.

Lisanna and Laki exchanged surprised glances.

"We …all are," Lisanna explained, gently.

Levy shook her head, her eyes brimming with tears again. "We aren't slaves. We're the daughters of scholars. And we don't belong here."

Lisanna put a comforting arm around the girl and began walking her towards the cart. "Darling, I know you must be upset-"

"Upset?" Levy choked, flinging the girl's arm off of her. "I was going to be married. I was going to give my sister what I never had. And now neither of us can hope for better."

Lisanna looked sympathetically at Levy. "This may not be the life you chose, but this is your life now," she said gently. "The sultanas are kind to us, and you will never want for anything at all."

"Except my freedom," Levy retorted through gritted teeth.

"Freedom to marry a man who would treat you like a slave?" a woman's voice joined in, her voice teasing. "A far better prospect, I'm sure."

"Cana-jan," Laki said, smiling and giving a little bow.

Cana was a tall, dark-haired beauty. Her dark eyes twinkled mischievously and her lips were turned up in an insouciant smirk. She was dressed in a simple, unadorned choli and a hastily-tied sarong that sat low on her hips, revealing a beautiful tourmaline navel piercing. She leaned in for a closer look at the two girls. "Your name?"

Levy looked down, embarrassed at the older girl's scrutiny.

"I-I'm Levy," she sputtered, squeezing her sister's hand hard and pulling her close. "This is my sister, Wendy."

Satisfied, Cana turned and began to walk towards the covered carts. "You'll do well in our house as long as you work hard."

"T-thank you," Levy stammered, bowing her head.

"Bring your things and join me in my coach," Cana called, already headed to her vehicle. "I'll go crazy if I have to sit by myself for another week."

"Yes, my lady!" Laki and Lisanna bowed, smiling happily.

"Lady?" Levy whispered, incredulously. "Her?"

"She's the daughter of Gildarts, one of Makarov's sons," Laki explained, her voice low.

"She doesn't seem like a lady," Levy muttered.

"No," Laki agreed, smiling mischievously. "She doesn't."

The four girls followed Cana to a compartment coach decorated with silk cushions lining the floor like a makeshift divan. Sunlight poured into the generous enclosure through a wide window in the ceiling. Levy's eyes widened at the sight of all the luxury. She was thankful to not have to walk all the way back to … wherever it was they were going. She climbed in eagerly and helped Wendy in. The girls didn't notice the woman glaring at them from the corner.

She was beautiful and pale, with bright green hair coiffed into perfect wavy tresses, deep brown eyes and a little pouting mouth. Her hair was adorned with tiny glittering jewels that flashed brightly in the hazy sunlight. She was dressed in a burgundy sari, embroidered delicately with gold.

"Are you going to let them just sit here the whole trip?" she demanded.

"Mistress," Laki and Lisanna murmured in acknowledgment, bowing deeply. Levy and Wendy followed suit.

Cana plopped down on the cushions, stretching out lazily on her side. "I might. They're better company than you."

The woman scoffed and looked at Cana with obvious disdain.

"Where is your husband?" Cana asked. "Why aren't you riding with him?"

"He left with your father to negotiate a trade with an iron merchant in the mountains. He won't be back for some time," she answered casually.

"Lucky for him," Cana sighed. "I wouldn't want to spend a week-long trip cooped up with you, either."

The green-haired woman stood up with a huff and walked towards the exit, kicking Cana's pillows in the process.

"You can stay here in the company of these girls if you like. Personally, I can't stand the smell of them," she said haughtily. "Or the sight of you."

Cana ignored her, running her fingers through her dark hair and smiling impishly at the girls. Laki quickly poured a glass of red wine into a goblet and offered it to Cana, who drank it in one gulp. Lisanna picked up a palm leaf fan and began waving a gentle breeze. Levy and Wendy sat silently with their hands set demurely in their laps, looking down.

"So what is it you do?" Cana asked leisurely. "Odalisques of this house aren't bought for nothing."

"I tell stories," Levy replied, not looking up.

"She tells the most beautiful stories," Wendy piped up, happily. "She sings and she dances all the time for Master's guests."

"Oh!" Cana exclaimed, suddenly realizing. "You're the little dancing girl from the party the other night. Funny, Makarov doesn't usually pay attention to little things like you. You're not really his type."

"She was given as a gift to Master Gajeel," Laki said.

Levy's fists tightened in her lap.

"You're not really _his _type, either," Cana laughed. She noticed the girl's consternation and smiled sympathetically. "Darling, don't look so upset. Are you still crying over your little fiance?"

Levy stayed silent.

"Why don't you tell us about him?" Cana encouraged, stretching out on her back. "We'll be here for a while; I could use a good story. Who was he?"

"The son of Master Goldmine-" Levy began.

Cana burst into laughter. "Droy? Him? I've known that fool since we were children. Darling, you're better off."

"He was kind to me," Levy retorted hotly. "He didn't even care I didn't have a dowry."

"He's a fool," she said dismissively. "And there are more important things to a man than kindness."

"Kindness was more than I could even hope for," Levy said, soberly.

"Did you love him?" Cana asked, bluntly.

Levy paused, disarmed by the question. "Y-yes, of course," she stammered.

Cana clicked her tongue in mock disapproval. "Now you're lying," she said, teasing the girl.

"He was my one chance to escape indentured servitude," she said. "My father left us with nothing, not even proper dowries to marry us off to someone of our station."

"Where is your father?" Cana asked. "Is he passed?"

"No," Levy replied. "At least, I don't think so. He left us to make his fortune in the world after his concubine bankrupted him. Master Goldmine was kind enough to care for us in his absence, but he's been gone for years now."

"A concubine?" Cana mused. "Your father was rich enough to afford a concubine?"

"She was my mother," Wendy whispered.

Cana looked at the girls seriously, but not unkindly. "I was low-born. My father worked for the house of Makarov for many years and was adopted by the old man for his hard work and loyalty. Now I am a lady in a fine house. You speak as though your life is over, but there is nothing in this world that is set in stone. Even a little dancing girl can be the mistress of her own destiny."

Levy blinked, unable to say anything.

Cana rolled onto her back and stretched. "Now why don't you sing me a song, scholar's daughter?"

Levy smiled and found herself happy to oblige.

The rest of the trip was more enjoyable than Levy had anticipated. Cana was like a playful big sister to the girls: she shared her simple meals and delicious fruits with the girls, taught Wendy how to read Tarot cards, sang and danced foolishly in a drunken stupor with the rest of them. The week had gone by quickly, and soon they approached the city of Magnolia.

"There it is," Cana announced, leaning out the window to point at the city in the distance. "We're home. Welcome to Fairy Tail."

All the anxiety Levy had forgotten in the days past came rushing back to her. The city of Magnolia was beautiful, but the house of Makarov stood on a hill like a glittering jewel. Brightly painted and vast, Fairy Tail stood out for its enormous size as well as its garish colors.

"It looks like a palace," Wendy said with wonderment.

Cana pinned a veil in her hair and hopped out once the caravan had stopped in front of the gates. The four girls followed her through the tall gates and through the stunning courtyard. Topiaries and beautiful peacocks adorned the garden. Pools tiled with colorful mosaics held crystalline waters that Levy wished she could dip her toes in.

The wide, heavy wooden doors of the main house opened into a dazzling receiving hall. Cana gave them a wink and disappeared inside, while Laki and Lisanna led the girls along a path to the west.

"That's the main hall," Lisanna explained. "You'll probably never have to worry about going in there; it's mainly for receiving guests."

Levy nodded anxiously, squeezing Wendy's hand.

The four girls approached a tall building with a smooth marble facade. An enormous wrought-iron gate at the entrance stood closed, tall and forbidding. Lisanna pulled a rope and rang a little bell attached to the top. After a moment, a large, bald, heavyset man came fluttering to the gate.

"Lisanna! Laki!" he chirped as he undid the heavy bolt, letting them through. "Welcome home! And who are these little birds?"

"For Master Gajeel," Laki said, simply. "Cana-jan and Mistress Karen should be along shortly."

"Master Bob, please take care of these girls," Lisanna said, bowing.

Levy and Wendy bowed, keeping their gaze to the ground in deference.

Master Bob clasped his hands together happily. "Such pretty little things! Please do your best, and I will do everything to help you!"

Levy and Wendy bowed again, murmuring a thank you as Laki and Lisanna led them inside the seraglio proper.

"That was the eunuch Bob, the Master of the seraglio," Laki said. "He makes sure everything runs smoothly; that the meals are prepared on time and served properly, the baths are cleaned and the linens changed. Basically, it's his job to make sure the sultanas are happy."

"He may look strange, but he is a powerful man," Lisanna continued. "Do your job well and he will reward you. And should the need arise, he will be an important ally."

The girls entered the bath house, an atrium housing a beautiful, expansive pool of blue and white with gilded, swirling patterns that mirrored the open sky above.

"Come," Lisanna beckoned and the girls followed her to a majestic rotunda that broke off into eight large hallways. "Each of these lead to the apartments of the sultanas. Down this hallway are Lady Mirajane's rooms."

They went down the largest hallway, which was decorated with windows carved with a curling vine pattern and painted birds. Pushing past a set of heavy doors, they walked into a chamber where a number of beautifully dressed women in bright silk dresses sat embroidering, listening to a servant girl sing. At their entrance, all eyes were upon them and Levy looked down, self-conscious. Laki and Lisanna bowed deeply, and Wendy and Levy followed suit.

"Welcome back," a woman said. She was pale with deep blue eyes and curling white hair. She smiled sweetly and Levy thought she was the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen.

"Thank you, Mira-jan," Lisanna murmured.

"Who are these girls?" asked a woman with scarlet hair. Her voice was curt, her expression serious, but her voice not unkind.

"Gifts for Master Gajeel, Erza-jan," Laki spoke up.

Levy's anger flared up, tired of being referred to like chattel.

"Then they're mine," a sultry voice said behind them.

It was the green-haired woman they'd met on the first day of travel. She sauntered in, Cana behind her, and took her seat amongst the women of the house. Cana smiled at the girls, winking.

"Be nice to my little doves, Karen," Cana warned, not-so-sweetly.

Karen lowered her eyes demurely, but the smile that played on her lips was a wicked one.

"Be welcomed to Fairy Tail," Mirajane greeted them ceremoniously. "Lady Erza and I are the mistresses here. It is our job to look after the all the girls of this harem and make sure they are taken care of. Including you."

"Laki, please show them to their rooms," Erza instructed. "And make sure they understand their duties."

"Yes, Erza-jan," Laki said, and led the girls back out to the hallway.

"Erza is scary," Wendy whispered, when the doors had closed behind them.

Laki laughed. "Erza is kind, if sometimes a little brusque. It's Mirajane you should be scared to cross. We don't call her 'the devil' for nothing."

"Who is that woman with the green hair?" Levy asked.

"That was Karen Lilica," Laki said, her voice serious now. "She's Master Gajeel's concubine. She calls herself Lilica because his favorite flower is a lily. He loves it so much he even named his panther Lily, even though it's a boy. Can you believe it?"

Levy was silent as they walked back through the rotunda and through to another hall.

"She will be your mistress," the girl continued. "You will serve her, tend to her wants and needs, no matter how ridiculous they might be. She will be a difficult mistress, but just do your best and make her happy."

"Will I …" Levy began.

"Hm?" Laki asked, looking at the girl.

"Will I have to …. give myself to the master?"

Laki paused and pursed her lips. "There's a possibility," she admitted finally. "But you wouldn't be the first or last girl a man of this house has bought and never laid eyes on again. After all these years, I am still an odalisque of Master Gildarts's house, and I shall most likely remain one for the rest of my days. First and foremost, you serve the women of this house. Karen Lilica will be your mistress. She should be your only worry."

Levy nodded.

They had made their way to the end of the dim hall, to the servants' quarters. Levy looked at the small room: it had a soft bed large enough for her and Wendy. The windows, covered with organza curtains the color of the sky, filtered in the hazy afternoon sunlight. The floors were covered with beautiful, though not particularly new rugs. It was a clean, lovely room, but it was a stranger's room. Levy had nothing of her old life here. None of her books or scrolls, none of her earnings or her clothes or the little trinkets Droy had given her over the years. She never had much, but what she did have was hers. And now she had nothing.

She sat on the edge of her bed and cried. It was the first time she'd cried since the day she'd been left behind. She felt alone and scared and sad: this life was the devil she didn't know. She served a faceless master, a cold mistress and no future to look forward to.

Wendy hugged her sister and stroked her hair, while Laki looked on helplessly. Levy cried until her eyes dried up and all she could do was sob soundlessly. Her ragged breathing slowed and she felt a sense of clarity wash over her. She was done. She was done being sad. She wouldn't waste another tear just because she had traded one sadness for another. She would work, and she would live. Just as she'd always done.

"Show me what I need to do," she ordered Laki.

As Laki walked her back to the bathhouse, Levy vowed she'd never cry again.

Three months later, Levy and Wendy had almost gotten accustomed to Karen's devilish mood swings.

"I said the burgundy robe!" Karen hissed, flinging the clothing at Levy's face.

"Yes, my lady," she said, her voice flat. She picked up the offending item, folding it neatly over her arm and walking back to Karen's enormous closet. She returned shortly with a different garment.

"That's better," Karen cooed with acid sweetness, slipping on the robe. "The master has finally come home, and I need to look perfect for him."

Levy knelt before her mistress, tucking and pleating Karen's delicate dress until it draped perfectly around her impeccable form.

"Wendy!" Karen shouted.

The little girl ran in and bowed. "Yes, mistress?"

"Go to Master Gajeel's quarters and wait for him to arrive," she ordered. "Let him know I want to see him.

"Yes, ma'am," Wendy replied, quickly.

"DON'T CALL ME 'MA'AM'!" Karen bellowed.

"Yes-!" Wendy squeaked, running out.

She ran down the hallway, past the rotunda and out the seraglio to the main house. Down a dark, labyrinthine hallway, she found Master Gajeel's rooms and sat obediently in front of his doors, waiting for him to arrive. He didn't return till the late evening, long after supper was done, but Wendy sat vigilantly.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly, unlocking his door.

"Mistress Lilica wishes to see you," Wendy replied, her voice small.

"I'm tired," he said, his voice weary. "Tell her I'll send for her another day."

"Mistress Lilica insists that you see her straightaway," she said, panicking.

Gajeel heard the fear that crept into the little girl's voice. "Send for her then," he said, his tone softening.

The little girl raced off and Gajeel sighed. He'd only just gotten back from a long journey and wasn't particularly concerned about anything but the familiar softness of his bed. He sat down in a chair and kicked off his riding boots and divested himself of his dusty clothing. Naked in his own chambers, he stretched and walked to his private bathroom where his iron soaking tub was filled with water scented with jasmine and lily. He lowered himself in, shuddering in momentary shock from the cool temperature. The water was crisp and perfect. Leaning back, he settled in, reveling in this moment alone after three months traveling with a perpetually drunk Gildarts. He cupped his hands and poured water over his head, letting it run down in rivulets across his broad shoulders and smooth back.

"Am I interrupting?" a familiar voice asked.

He opened his eyes and Karen was perched delicately on the lip of his tub, a kittenish smile on her painted lips.

_Yes, you are_, he wanted to say, but kept quiet. He said nothing, but stood and stepped out of the tub. Karen smiled wickedly, catching a brief glance of his nakedness.

Gajeel wrapped a towel around his waist and quickly dried his long raven hair before walking to his room and stretching out onto his bed. Karen followed, crawling towards him and pressing herself against his almost nakedness.

"Your dress is scratching me," he said irritably.

"Then let me take care of that, my lord," Karen said, simply.

She sat up, untying her sash and slipping off her robe. She slowly and carefully unbuttoned her dress, her eyes locked on his. She slowly peeled off her clothes, revealing her perfect naked form. She crawled back to his side, sliding a graceful hand down his chest, his muscled stomach and down beneath his towel.

Gajeel groaned at her touch, as her practiced hands gently stroked him to life. Her hair was scented with lilies and he felt the familiar desire that made him drunk with her presence. With a roar he turned over and pushed himself on top of her. She laughed triumphantly as he covered her neck with brutal, hungry kisses. All his weariness was forgotten as he lost himself between her supple thighs.

This was the power of Karen Lilica.

Karen reached up to run her fingers through his hair but he snatched her hands away and pinned her wrists above her head with his hand. He grunted in irritation and knotted his other fist in her hair, forcing her head back as he kissed the hollow of her neck.

He was savage. Karen wondered in passing if she'd bruise again this time. She delighted in his animalistic desire for her. It was half of her satisfaction: knowing how much he wanted her. She knew that he'd had others before and after her, but none could hold his attention as she had all these years. And it was just a matter of time before she would bear his son and finally become a proper wife. Then she would rule the harem over the childless Erza and the delicate Mirajane who could only breed useless daughters.

Karen knew her time was coming.

They lay side by side, out of breath and spent. Her body was covered in pink welts where his hands and mouth had ravaged her but she just smiled, her hands resting on her belly,

imagining the son she would bear him was already growing inside her.

"Welcome home, my lord," she purred.

It seemed like an eternity to Gajeel as he waited anxiously for Karen to fall asleep. He was glad she was finally silent.

He liked her best when she was silent.

He pulled a pair of plain cotton pants over his nakedness and walked to the door that opened up to the garden.

"Where are you going?" Karen demanded, sitting bolt upright. She pushed back her hair, wild and still damp with sweat at her temples.

He stopped and gritted his teeth in frustration. "Out."

"You're just going to leave me here?" Karen's voice was high and shaking with ill-concealed anger.

"You know your way back to your room," he muttered. "Or stay here. I don't care."

Karen snatched a tin goblet from the bedside table and flung it at him. It didn't land anywhere near him, but he was immediately inflamed with anger and he escaped outside without a word.

The moon was exceptionally bright this night. Annoyingly bright. He padded down a narrow stone pathway that snaked around his rooms and lead to a large teak gazebo behind Jellal's apartments. It sat in the shade of a giant magnolia tree, shielding him from the oppressive radiance of the moonlight. He fell into the cushions and stretched out on his back. In the distance a high, sweet voice murmured an aimless melody. Exhausted, already slipping into the oblivion between sleep and wakefulness, he let himself be lulled to sleep by the phantom song.

Something hit his side. He swatted at it and rolled on his side away from it. He felt another hit his bare back.

"Oi!" he raged. "What's the big deal?!"

Gajeel turned back over, rolling over onto the offending objects. He fished one out from under him.

It was a pebble.

Frowning, sat up and looked up to see the slim figure of a blue-haired girl dressed in a pale cotton shift, holding a small collection of lilies in her hands.

"You'd better get out of here before Master Jellal catches you," Levy said, flatly. 'I wouldn't want him finding me sleeping on the job."

Gajeel grinned, realizing who she was. "I'm not afraid of him," he announced arrogantly.

She squinted for a moment, peering into the shade. Her eyes grew large and he knew that she'd recognized him, too.

"Shouldn't you be?" she asked, though her voice was disinterested. "Fortunately for you he's drowning himself in the embrace of Lady Erza tonight."

"No, it's fortunate for me that I met you here," he said, a rakish touch in his voice.

Levy rolled her eyes and continued down the little stone path towards a little pond. Gajeel ran to catch up with her.

"What are you doing out at this time, anyways?" he asked.

"I'm picking flowers for my mistress," she said simply, kneeling by the little pond.

"At night? Shouldn't you do that in the morning when they're in full bloom?"

"Not these flowers," she said, reaching for a bloom on a lilypad just beyond her the reach of her fingertips.

Gajeel leaned over and retrieved it for her easily. Levy looked at him warily, and reluctantly muttered a begrudging thanks.

"What's so special about that flower?" he asked.

"This is a Night Bloom water lily," she explained. "It produces a pink flower that blooms only at night. Just like Mistress Karen."

"Are you likening her to a flower or a whore?" he laughed.

"Take your pick," she replied tartly.

Gajeel laughed, amused by the girl's insouciant tongue. In the silver light of the moon, her pale skin seemed to glow, her blue hair set alight in an auroral halo. She looked otherworldly, like an indifferent, ethereal fairy.

Levy scowled, seeing him staring at her, and turned to walk back to the seraglio.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around," Gajeel called after her.

"I hope not," she retorted.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you so much for the awesome response! I feel so honored that yoyonaki approves of this hahah! I'm sorry this was not the lemon you were looking for but I swear this story has a life of its own right now ... It's about to go down.  
**


	3. Chapter 3: Cana's Wedding

The blaring afternoon sunlight filtered through the tall trees and Gajeel was thankful for its shade. He ran a hand along the tall, manicured bushes, steadying himself as he manoeuvred through the labyrinthine garden pathway. The world was spinning, his head was throbbing …

"Lightweight," Gildarts taunted, catching up to him.

"Really?" Gajeel challenged. "Because I'm doing a hell of a lot better than them."

Gajeel waved his hand, gesturing at the the limp, groaning form of Jellal thrown unceremoniously over Gildarts' shoulder, and the unconscious Natsu that Laxus and Gray dragged between them.

"Maybe," Gildarts admitted. "But not by much."

Gildarts laughed heartily, slapping Gajeel's back a little harder than he'd intended.

Gajeel almost hurled.

"Let's get them back to their beds," Laxus said. "I'm tired of dragging this one around."

"Right," Gildarts agreed.

The men continued on their way through the intricately coiling pathways.

"I didn't realize he'd be so heavy," Gray muttered, struggling to keep a grip on Natsu's legs.

"Or that they'd actually be out cold for this long," Laxus added.

"Jellal knew better than to drink so much," Gray said, sighing. "He knows he's allergic to alcohol."

"He was just caught up in the spirit of things!" Gildarts boomed, laughing. "It's not every day my daughter gets married."

"The wedding isn't even until tomorrow," Laxus reminded him.

"It's a pre-festival festival," Gildarts joked, grinning. "So we can do this again tonight!"

They groaned.

At last, the pathway opened up to the stone terrace overlooking Jellal's apartments. Below, Cana and Levy danced and spun in idle circles, laughing carelessly as Erza and the other women looked on in amusement.

"Look at her," Gildarts said, gesturing proudly at his daughter. "The most beautiful girl in all of Magnolia."

But Gajeel's eyes were fixed on the blue-haired girl. He'd never seen her like this, looking so cheerful and free. Her laughter was high and sweet, like the gentle sound of tiny tinkling bells. Her face lit up with a happiness that was simple and unaffected, and her whole body radiated joy. She was dressed in a plain white shift, and even amongst the colorful gallery of regal, painted women in their silk finery, she was the one who drew his eye.

"Don't look too hard," Gildarts warned. He elbowed Gajeel's side jokingly, drawing him out of his trance.

"Don't worry," Gajeel grinned. "I wasn't."

"Oh?"Gildarts peered down below in curiosity. "I see," he said, throwing Gajeel a knowing, lecherous look of approval. "Is that the little dancing girl I've heard so much about? I've never seen her before."

"Yeah," Gajeel replied. "And you saw her dance at the master's feast in the lower oasis six months ago."

"I don't remember that," Gildarts said, stroking his chin, trying to recall that time.

"You would have if you and Cana weren't busy drinking your weight in wine," Gray retorted smugly.

"Hah!" Gildarts' thunderous laughter echoed and a small flock of frightened birds flew overhead. "At any rate, you should have her dance at the wedding!"

Gajeel frowned. "Get Laki to dance for you."

Gildarts puffed his cheeks out peevishly. "All of Magnolia will come to see my daughter's wedding and you want me to throw Laki at them?"

"Laki _would _fill out the outfit well," Laxus mused.

A wanton smile crept across Gildarts' lips as he imagined the half-naked Laki, but he quickly shook his head and looked at Gajeel seriously.

"Oi, Gajeel," he began, placing a heavy, solemn hand on Gajeel's shoulder. "What good is a dancing girl if you won't let her dance?"

Gajeel scowled. "All right. But consider this Cana's wedding present."

"Cheapskate," Gildarts teased, grinning widely. "Okay, let's get this over with. Gajeel and I can deliver Jellal to Lady Erza if you two take Natsu back to his apartments."

"I'll take Natsu to his room," Gajeel said. "I've got to stop by the kitchen, so I'll be passing his way, anyways."

Gildarts shrugged and started down the stone stairway toward the lower garden. "See you later tonight, then!"

Laxus, Gajeel and Gray exchanged panicked looks before they went off in the direction of Natsu's apartments without another word.

Gildarts made his way to the covered gazebo where Erza, Lucy, Karen and Mirajane sat, fanning themselves languidly.

"Is that my husband?" Erza asked with mock pity in her voice.

"Yes, my lady, it is," Gildarts replied, grandly. "Where shall I deposit him?"

"Here," Erza said, moving over and clearing a space among the pillows for her husband.

Gildarts lay Jellal down as gently as he could into Erza's welcoming arms. She fanned his face, smoothed the bright blue hair away from his forehead. He grumbled in protest, reaching up to close his hand over hers.

Erza smiled kindly and kissed her husband's brow. "You've outdone yourself, my love."

"I know," he croaked. "But what's the point of being sick if I don't have you to nurse me back to health?"

He smiled a drunken, crooked smile, and Erza laughed delightedly.

"Laki," Erza called. "Bring me some water, if you can."

Laki hopped up from her place in the shade of a tree. "Yes, my lady!" she said, as she ran off.

Lucy clicked her tongue and frowned disapprovingly. "Those men …"

"Your husband isn't in a much better state, my lady," Gildarts informed her. "It's taken three of his brothers to carry him back to your rooms."

Lucy's face paled in embarrassment. "Oh."

"Don't worry," Mirajane said amiably, putting a reassuring hand on Lucy's. "It won't be the first or last time. I know you must not be used to this yet, but this is just how we celebrate in Fairy Tail."

Mirajane smiled graciously, and Erza and the rest murmured in agreement.

"I suppose I should go see to Natsu," Lucy sighed. She stepped out of the gazebo and walked towards the little path that led around to her apartments. "Levy, will you come with me?"

"Yes, my lady," Levy replied, smiling. She began to follow Lucy but felt a hand catch her wrist.

"Wait," Cana said.

Levy turned around and looked at her questioningly.

"Please say you'll dance tomorrow night at my wedding," Cana entreated, hopefully. "I would love if it you would, darling."

Levy smiled brightly. "O-of course! I'd be honored-"

"She'll dance if I say she'll dance," Karen called sullenly from the gazebo. "I don't know why you bother to ask the slave and not the mistress."

Karen's face was obscured by the sheer curtains and the shade of the gazebo, but Levy knew that acid tone. She was displeased, and Levy would irrevocably pay the price later. The smile sank from her lips and she lowered her eyes sadly.

Cana didn't bother to turn around. "Because I am a sultana and the daughter of a lord, that's why," she replied cuttingly. "I don't need the permission of an upjumped serving girl for anything I desire in this house." Her voice softened. "And because I am asking a friend."

Levy looked up into her the older girl's kind eyes and smiled mischievously. "Of course I will. No matter what!" she whispered earnestly, before running off to join Lucy.

Wendy appeared, dashing towards them on the pathway leading from the seraglio. "Lady Karen," she called, out of breath. "Master Gajeel has sent for you."

Karen pushed past the gauzy curtains of the gazebo and with a contemptuous huff followed the girl away.

"That Karen," Lucy sighed, watching her slink away. "I guess it can't be helped. Not everyone can be as kind and wonderful as Mira-jan and Erza-jan."

"Or you," Levy added.

"Me?" Lucy laughed. She groaned in frustration and hooked her arm around Levy's. "I don't know how they do it."

"Do what, my lady?" Levy asked.

"Be married!" Lucy cried. "You'd think years of training for this debacle would make me better at this, but it doesn't. I was trained to talk politics with heads of state, I can host lavish dinner parties, do fine needlework, but what good does all that do for me when my husband comes home drunk with a hangover? I don't know how to manage this day to day stuff. Or how to be a good wife. I don't know what I'm supposed to do or what he wants me to do or anything!"

Levy giggled. "I don't think Master Natsu expects anything more from you than … you."

Lucy sighed, still exasperated. "Fairy Tail is so … different than I expected."

Though Lady Lucy was new to the house, Levy knew all about her. She'd come to Fairy Tail just before Levy, and the two had become fast friends, feeling out the peculiar nuances of quotidian life at Fairy Tail together. Lucy was the precious daughter of the Heartfilia Konzern, a merchant house equal in power to Fairy Tail. She had been promised to Natsu since they were children, practically from the moment Makarov had adopted him as his own son. Their engagement had been a rocky one, fraught with petulant adolescent anxiety and fervent resistance on both their parts for years. But in the end, the burden of responsibility won out and they were married. Natsu was a kind husband and she a dutiful, if clumsy, wife. Slowly, sweetly the two fell in love. It was like a real life fairy tale.

"What about you, Levy-jan?" Lucy asked, poking Levy playfully in the ribs. "Don't you have a special someone yet?"

Levy smile was a rueful one. "No, my lady, none. And I don't think I'll ever have to trouble myself with that."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Lucy whispered playfully, with a conspiratorial wink.

They approached the verandah leading to Master Natsu's apartments. The curtains to the receiving room were drawn shut and room was dim, but still bright enough to see the immobilized Natsu stretched out on a couch, being tended to by a manservant.

"Thank you," Lucy said kindly. "I can take it from here."

The servant handed Levy a silver tray with a metal basin filled with cool water and soft terrycloth towels before bowing and excusing himself.

"Look at you," Lucy scoffed at her husband. "You're a mess."

"Lucy," Natsu moaned. "Help me …"

Lucy put her hands on her hips, leaning over to get a better look at his sorry state. "What do you want me to do about it? You're the one who was stupid enough to drink himself silly."

"B-but," he whined. "It was a party … Gildarts … "

"Okay, okay," she said, sighing, sitting down at his side.

Lucy reached for a hand towel, dunking it in the basin before dropping it peremptorily on his forehead. It landed with a heavy, soggy flop.

"Is that better?" she asked, saucily.

"Lucy," Natsu moaned pitifully as the water ran down his temples and into his hair. "You're so cruel."

"Aren't I?" she teased. She pat his chest affectionately and stood up to go, but Natsu caught her arm and pulled her back down. Lucy shrieked in surprise as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Don't go yet," he murmured, burying his face in her skirts.

"N-natsu," Lucy stammered, embarrassed. She looked helplessly at Levy, who averted her eyes demurely from the private moment.

"I'll be right back," Lucy assured him, gently dislodging herself from his embrace.

"Promise?" he slurred.

Lucy stood up, looking down affectionately at her husband. "Yes, you silly thing."

She walked over to Levy, taking her by the hand and pulling her into the study.

"Before you leave," she said, her voice excited. "I have something for you."

"W-what is it?" Levy asked, timidly.

Lucy walked behind a heavy wooden desk and pulled out a silk-wrapped parcel. She pushed it towards Levy. "Well? Open it! It's yours."

Levy set the tray down on the desk and tentatively folded back the cloth wrapping while Lucy looked on expectantly.

It was a book. A hard-bound version of _A Thousand and One Nights_, Levy's favorite book. The cover was thick leather, with beautiful hand-tooled designs and scrolling scripts inlaid with gold lettering. The pages were heavy gold parchment with perfectly curling calligraphy and vivid gouache pictures depicting various tableaux of Scheherazade's stories.

"Do you like it?" Lucy asked, eagerly. "This is from my library back home. It's my favorite book! Do you know it? You remind me of the heroine: Scheherazade, the clever girl with a thousand and one stories."

Levy's hands began to shake and she felt tears well up in her eyes.

"Don't you like it?" Lucy rushed over and put a reassuring arm around her friend.

"No, of course I love it," Levy laughed, wiping her tears away. "My father gave me this book when I was a child. It was only an old manuscript, nothing as beautiful as this. But I left my copy at home when I came here."

"Well, this is your home now," Lucy said gently. "And now you have a copy here, too."

Levy smiled to herself. It was true: more and more this place felt comfortable, almost like a real home.

"Now, I've got to tend to that idiot out there," Lucy said, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure Karen will be missing you."

Levy excused herself and walked as quietly as she could through the apartments and out to the main hallway. She clutched the book to her heart, daydreaming happily, until she bumped into something hard.

"Hey!" she heard a voice cry out.

The clanging of metal jolted her back to reality and she saw a tall, slender man with bright red hair sprawled on the ground, surrounded by a mess of silver wine goblets.

"S-sorry," she stammered, bending down to help pick up the tableware.

"I just finished polishing these," he grumbled, snatching the goblets up irritably.

"I can help you if you need," she offered, timidly. "It's my fault, after all."

"No thanks," he snapped. "You've done enough-"

He stopped in mid-sentence, finally looking her full in the face. He blushed and looked away. "It's fine, I can manage. It won't take much time, anyways."

"Are you sure?" Levy pressed. "It's really no trouble. I know how scary Lady Mirajane can be when things aren't perfect and on time and perfectly on time."

He laughed. "True. But I can do it. I'm pretty fast."

"Okay," Levy said, relieved.

"Are you new?" he asked. "I've never seen you around before."

"Not that new," Levy replied. "I work in the seraglio, for the harem."

"Ah," he said, understanding. "The forbidden jewels of Fairy Tail."

Levy giggled. "I suppose."

"What's your name?" he asked, looking her in the eye intently.

"I-I'm Levy," she stammered, growing uncomfortable with the attention.

"I'm Jet," he announced, with a cocky smile.

"Nice to meet you," she said, dipping her head slightly in greeting, still avoiding his eyes. "I should be on my way."

"Can I walk you back?" he asked eagerly.

Levy looked at him strangely. "To … the seraglio?"

"Oh, yeah," he replied, realizing his mistake.

"Besides," she said, eying his armful of goblets. "You've got work to do."

She turned on her heel and walked swiftly back towards the seraglio, leaving Jet to stare after her.

* * *

Wendy held open the heavy wooden door that lead to Gajeel's bedroom. Karen swept past her, her eyes quickly scanning the room. She found him sitting at his desk, looking over some letters. With a confident, wanton smile she slinked over to him, positioning herself behind him. Leaning over, she ran her hands from his shoulders down his chest, making sure to brush her breasts lightly against the back of his neck.

"You called for me, my lord?" she purred. "How funny! I was just thinking about you."

"Oh?" Gajeel was uninterested.

"I was wondering if you'll take me to the party tomorrow?" Her voice was high and sweet when she was trying her wheedle her way into something. He knew this tone well.

Gajeel slowly but firmly pushed her arms away. "If you want to go, you don't need me to take you. Just show up, like everyone else."

Karen shook off his hands and wrapped her arms tight around his neck, nuzzling his ear. "But I don't want to go unless I'm sitting on the dais with you and the other young masters and their ladies," she pouted.

"You're not a sultana," he said, icily. "You know only wives can be seated with their husbands."

"And Mirajane?" she asked, her tone growing more biting. "She's always at Master Laxus's side. Why can't I be at yours?"

"Mirajane is Laxus's concern, not mine," he retorted. "And I didn't ask you here for that."

"Then what can I do for you, my lord?" Her voice was not so sweet anymore.

Gajeel stood up, breaking free from her embrace. "Your servant. The new one."

Karen's perfectly contrived poise dropped. She jutted her hips out peevishly and crossed her arms. "What about her?" she demanded, sourly.

"What is her name?" he asked.

"I don't know," she lied, archly.

"Let her know she's going to dance at the wedding tomorrow," he said, absently.

Karen's anger flared. "Her?! You want her to be at the wedding? But not me?"

"What good is having a dancing girl if she's not going to dance?" he asked, echoing Gildarts' earlier statement.

"And what if I refuse to let her?" she spat. "She's _my_ servant. What if I refuse to go and need her to tend to me tomorrow night while you and everyone else drink yourself silly without me?"

"Are you refusing me?" Gajeel asked. His tone was flat, but dangerous. "I own her. And you. And if I want anything at all from you, I don't need to ask."

Karen bit her lip, seething with anger. It was the second time today her station had been thrown in her face, and it wasn't something she was likely to forget.

"Besides," he continued. "Master Gildarts requested her. Should I tell him you have denied him?"

"No," she replied, quietly.

"It will be your task to prepare her," he instructed. "Any failure on her part tomorrow I will understand to be a failure of yours."

"Yes, my lord," she said, obediently. Her voice was low and unwavering, but her body nearly trembled with ire.

Karen bowed low, picked up the hem of her skirt and turned to go back out the door Wendy still held open. She stopped, looking down hard at the little girl. Wendy felt her mistress' eyes on her and ventured to look up at her. Karen glared at her: this girl was Levy's sister and at that moment, the closest thing to Levy.

She slapped the girl hard across the mouth.

"Don't look at me," she hissed as she swept out of the room.

Wendy held her hand to her cheek and quickly scrambled to her feet to follow after her.

"Wait," Gajeel called, walking over to her.

Wendy looked down, trying not to cry. Gajeel knelt down, gently pulling her hand away to look at her face.

He clicked his tongue sympathetically at the sight of the large pink welt covering her cheek. "Come here."

Gajeel took the girl's hand and led her to his desk, where he picked up a tin goblet filled with chilled juice. He pressed it gingerly against her swelling cheek.

"You can have the rest of that if you like," he said, kindly. "It's mango nectar."

Wendy's eyes lit up and she brought the cup down and peered inside before taking an excited gulp. "This is my sister's favorite," she murmured, forgetting the pain in her cheek.

He watched her sip the juice happily and his heart softened at the sight of her smile. He reached out to pat her on the head, but drew his hand back when he saw her flinch. His heart sank for the little girl.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice low. "I didn't know she treated you like that. I'll speak to her. No one in this house should ever have to endure that."

Wendy's eyes widened. "No, please don't. She'll kill me if she thinks I've said anything against her to you."

Gajeel looked at her, his brows knitted in concern.

"I swear, my lord, she never hits me like this. Not very often," she whispered. "Please don't say anything to my mistress. Please."

"Alright," he conceded at last. "But the moment she lays another hand on you, you will tell me. And I will take care of it."

Wendy exhaled with relief. "I promise," she said, her voice small.

She set down the cup and bowed to Gajeel.

"Thank you," she mumbled before running out.

* * *

Karen burst through the doors of Levy's chamber.

"Are you ready yet?" she demanded.

The night of the wedding was here, and Levy wrung her hands in nervous anticipation.

"I haven't anything to wear," Levy said, her voice small.

"Do you think anyone cares what you'll be wearing?" Karen sneered. "Wear what you're wearing now. It doesn't matter."

Levy looked down at her plain cotton dress. It was her everyday clothing, the attire of a servant. Not a dress fitting a wedding celebration.

"We came just in time then," Mirajane said.

Levy looked up and saw Lady Mirajane walking in, followed by Lady Erza. The latter carried a long wooden box in her arms.

"What are you doing here?" Karen demanded, irritatedly.

"I'm in charge of preparations, so I'm just making sure Levy-jan is ready for tonight," Mirajane replied, smiling beatifically.

"I'm here because I wanted to dress her up," Erza said, shrugging.

"Then you can take over," Karen said, walking out.

"We brought you something," Erza said, excitedly.

She opened up the box, pulling out a two-piece suit of creamy azure blue. The pieces were made of sheer gossamer silk, accented with pale gold coins. Levy reached out to touch the tips of her fingers to the intricate gold design of the bra top.

"I couldn't wear that," Levy said, her face coloring. "It's so …"

"Don't be silly," Erza said, dismissively. She began unbuttoning Levy's dress.

"W-what are you doing?" she cried, covering herself with her hands.

Erza sat back and gave her an exasperated look, and Levy's resolve crumbled. She lowered her hands and let Erza pull her dress off. With the older girl's help, she slipped into the suit and marveled at the airy softness of the gossamer that caressed her bare legs and seemed to float around her. Around her waist, Erza fastened the belt that was adorned with gold coins and jangled loudly with every movement.

"There," she said at last, pinning the veil into Levy's carefully coiffed hair. "You look beautiful."

Erza stepped back, admiring her handiwork. Mirajane smiled in approval.

"Yes, very beautiful," Mirajane agreed.

Levy fiddled with the clothing, pulling at it and adjusting it nervously.

"What's wrong?" Erza asked.

"I feel so ... awkward," Levy admitted. "It's so revealing, I feel so bare ... and these coins are so loud and ostentatious …"

"That sounds like the beginning of an excuse," Erza sighed.

"No, I just-"

"Do you know why dancers wear coins?" Erza interrupted. "The better a dancer a girl was, the more coins she'd garner. At the end of the night, she'd sew the coins into her skirt for safekeeping, but it also came to represent a physical accounting of her talent, her hard work. You don't have to dance for coins anymore, but don't ever forget your worth."

She picked up Levy's hand and pulled her towards a mirror.

"Look at yourself," she ordered. "Do you think you have anything to be ashamed of?"

Levy looked at herself in the glass. She caught her breath, almost unable to recognize herself. The blue of the silk accentuated the paleness of her skin, but the gold coins brought a warmth to her complexion. Mirajane had lined her eyes with smoky kohl and colored her lashes an inky black. Her hair was pinned impeccably with curling tendrils framing her face. Her posture straightened and her shoulders pulled involuntarily back. She was beautiful, yes, but more than that, she was dignified and pure and a person she was proud to have become.

Mirajane and Erza smiled, looking upon their creation with satisfaction.

"Come," Erza beckoned. "It's time to go."

Levy walked down hallway after hallway, flanked protectively by Erza and Mirajane. Her face burned with embarrassment, seeing the other servants gawk at her in her glittering attire. At last, they approached the main corridor that connected to the great hall where the wedding banquet was being held.

"Levy!" Lisanna squealed, rushing towards her. "You look amazing!"

"Take Levy to the antechamber to wait for her turn," Mirajane instructed.

"Yes, sister," Lisanna replied.

"We've got to head back," Mirajane explained, turning back to Levy. "But good luck, my darling."

She squeezed Levy's hand reassuringly while Erza patted her on the shoulder before the two slipped quietly through the doors to the great hall.

"Wow," a familiar voice said, whistling.

Levy turned to see Jet staring wide-eyed at her. Somehow, the way his eyes roamed over her body made her feel completely naked.

"Get back to work, Jet," Lisanna snapped. "Or I'll tell my sister you've been slacking."

"All right, all right," he said grumbling. "You look incredible, by the way." He gave one last lingering look before disappearing into the kitchen.

Levy was glad to see him go. She breathed a sigh of relief and gave Lisanna a thankful look.

"Come on," Lisanna said, taking Levy's hand. "Let's go watch the party."

She pulled Levy into the adjoining antechamber, cracking the door just enough for them to see the festivities. The guests sat with their backs against the walls at long tables piled high with succulent festival meats, bottles of fine wine and refreshing fruits. On a raised platform, set apart from the fray, sat Makarov and his family: Lucy cringing over Natsu's drunken state, the regal Erza and stately Jellal, the brooding Laxus and the angelic Mirajane stroking his hand, the lonely Gray, and finally the drunken Gildarts fawning over his daughter. Cana was dressed in a silver silk gown and robe, sewn with thousands of tiny white diamonds that glittered like ice in the candlelight. Her face was flushed bright pink with inebriation as she ignored her father and leaned coquettishly towards a dark haired man dressed in a dark purple robe.

"Do you think Cana's husband is handsome?" Lisanna asked, giggling.

"As long as he's kind to her, I don't care," Levy replied happily.

"It looks like the master is going to give his speech," Lisanna whispered.

The whole room quieted as the lilliputian man stood on his seat, waving a wine goblet high in the air. "'_The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb_,'" he slurred. "This is what it means to be of the House of Fairy Tail. My sons and their houses are as dear to me as any child of my own blood." He turned to the newlyweds, spilling wine on his shirt in the process. "Bacchus, you are as welcome to my table as any of my sons. Cana, my darling-"

The little man fell of his chair and into Cana's lap. The whole room erupted in laughter, and Levy and Lisanna couldn't help but join in. Levy felt a surge of happiness like pride. Her heart was filled with affection for this family who had become her friends. She covered her mouth with her hand, trying to hide the foolish grin on her face.

"I think they'll probably need you sooner than expected," Lisanna whispered, winking at her. "You should go inside and wait, just in case."

Levy slipped in as soundlessly as she could, taking her place by the musicians. Just as Lisanna predicted, Erza raised her hand, gesturing for her to come forward. Levy flitted to her mark in the center of the room, and looked at the musicians, nodding at them to begin. She caught sight of the rakish guitar player, who touched his plectrum to his brow in greeting and smiled knowingly at her. She scowled at him and took her first position.

The musicians took up the cue and began playing a pulsing, upbeat song. Levy's arms opened into sweeping arcs, snaking smoothly. Her hands curled gracefully like little doves. Her hips snapped with the beating of the drums, then rolled in fluid circles. She looked up to see Cana and the family clapping in time to the music, cheering her on. Levy danced vibrantly, triumphantly. All eyes were on her, hypnotized by her swirling hips and her kittenish smile.

Gajeel watched her from his place amongst the musicians. His eyes never left her, watching her glide around the room like a little bird. She was just as captivating as he remembered the first night he saw her in the oasis. He felt a tinge of jealousy, seeing her all dressed up for everyone to gape at. It was a possessiveness that confused him. But mostly he felt a certain satisfaction that she belonged to him. This beautiful, bold, perfect little thing that everyone admired was his.

The music finished and left Levy breathless with joy. She bowed to the dais and dashed back to Lisanna in the antechamber.

"That was incredible!" Lisanna exclaimed, pulling Levy into a celebratory embrace.

The two girls laughed as Laki peeked her head in. "Levy?"

"Yes?" she replied, still laughing capriciously.

"Master Gajeel has asked to see you," Laki said, carefully.

"Oh." Levy's smile dropped. She felt her legs fall out from under her and she slumped against the wall.

"Careful," Lisanna warned, steadying her.

"What does that mean?" Levy demanded. "What does he want from me?"

Lisanna and Laki exchanged worried glances.

"He's a kind man ... " Lisanna said, trying to reassure her, but her words had the opposite effect.

Levy didn't care if he was kind. Levy didn't care who he was because in the end, he was just a stranger. In six months, she'd never seen his face and she'd prayed she'd never have to. This was her worst fear come true.

Over the next hour, Levy sat nervously in her chair as Lisanna held her hand. Slowly but surely, the sounds of the waning party dwindled to almost silence and Levy squeezed her eyes shut, knowing it was time.

"I'll walk with you," Lisanna said consolingly.

Hand in hand, they walked down the dimly-lit hallways towards Gajeel's chambers. In silence, they moved further away from the familiar hallways and into unfamiliar corridors. Levy's heart beat harder in her chest. Lisanna stopped in front of an austere pair of heavy teak doors. She couldn't meet Levy's eyes, feeling like she'd delivered the girl up to be devoured by some monster of legends.

"I'll wait here," she promised.

She'd never seen a girl so scared. When Jellal had first brought Erza to Fairy Tail, the two were already in madly in love. Laxus and Mirajane had grown up together, and their familiar romance developed so naturally, that no one seemed to notice that anything had changed between them. Lucy had been nervous, as was to be expected, but she and Natsu had always held affection for each other. She looked at Levy, shaking with fright, trying hard to calm her ragged breathing, and truly felt sorry for her.

Levy steeled herself and pushed open the door. The room was dim, lit only by a pair of oil lamps that illuminated a plush, silken bed. Carved cedar doors that led into the garden were wide open, and pale silk curtains billowed in the summer breeze. In the corner, a man sat in the darkness, plucking an idle melody on a large guitar. His face was obscured by the darkness, but she could make out his large frame. She took two timid steps forward, but the coins on her suit jangled loudly and she froze, suddenly feeling foolish. The music stopped and she knew he definitely had his eyes on her.

"Come," he said. His voice was rich and low, and Levy's mind immediately began to race, thinking of all the possibilities of what he might look like. Was he young? Handsome? She couldn't tell. Would he be a brutish rogue like Laxus or a dignified prince like Jellal? Would he be kind or ..?

Levy took three little steps forward; it was all she dared.

"Here," he said, tossing her a small black velvet purse.

She caught it clumsily in her arms. Its contents were light, and tinkled gently as she opened the drawstrings. Inside were a handful of tiny golden rings, some smaller than the others, but all molded in beautiful intricate designs. She recognized them immediately: her old dancing jewelry.

"How …?" she whispered.

"A friend brought them to me," he replied, his face still hidden in the shadows.

Levy stared at the rings in her hand and the defeat she perceived felt complete. It was no great thing to serve the women of this house; other than Karen, the sultanas treated her more kindly than she ever could have expected. The work was never hard, and she delighting in entertaining her mistresses. Even dancing for coins was not so hard. At least then she could fool herself into thinking she was working for a greater good, for the sake of her sister. But to dance for a man like a harlot ... it was too much for her pride to bear.

She stood up straight, letting the purse fall and dangle indolently from her fingertips.

"Not going to put them on?" he asked, dispassionately.

He stood up and walked over to her, his stride slow and deliberate. Every heavy footstep struck fear into Levy's heart. Her eyes were fixed on the floor as he circled her like predator toying with its prey. She suddenly became aware of just how naked she was in her suit and her arms circled protectively around her body.

He stopped in front of her, and she refused to look up. "Oi."

Her eyes shot up. In the flickering lamplight, she recognized the iron studs that lined his brow and nose, the mocking smile, the dark red eyes that always looked at her as if they were searching her for something deeper.

The guitar player.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, taking a step back. Her fear turned to anger and she looked at him with nervous panic.

"What do you think?" Gajeel replied, reaching out to caress the loose, curling tendril of her hair. "I'm here to see _you_."

She took another step back. "Leave," she warned. "Or I'll scream."

"Leave?" he taunted, circling her again. Behind her, he removed the pin to her veil and Levy felt the silk slip down her shoulders and float soundlessly to the floor. He inclined his lips to graze her ear. "But I'd rather make you scream."

Levy whirled around and slapped him hard. He looked at her wide-eyed, startled but hardly injured. He saw her eyes flash with anger and a perverse smile crept upon his lips.

"I was wondering if you were going to keep up with the 'feckless virgin' act," he said, sighing dramatically. "I'll admit, it's irresistibly enticing but not exactly your style."

Levy laughed sardonically. "You'll regret this when my master finds you here."

He advanced upon her slowly and she retreated until she felt the cold marble wall at her back.

"But ... I _am _your master," he said, smiling wryly.

Levy's face paled. "You?" she whispered.

"Surprised?" Gajeel leaned in close, his warm breath smelling of wine, and she turned her face away in disgust.

"Hey," he said, irritatedly. He grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. "I'm getting tired of this."

"Then you should send for Mistress Lilica," she replied, defiantly. "She does not refuse."

Gajeel looked at her hard before finally releasing her, and stood back, looking her over skeptically. "Tch."

He strode to the door and pulled it open. "Send for Mistress Lilica," he ordered.

"Yes, my lord," she heard Lisanna's muffled voice say before skittering off.

"May I go, then?" she asked, quietly.

"Wait for your mistress, and then you may do whatever pleases you," he said, his voice oddly pleasant.

Levy was wary of his sincerity and stood in uncomfortable silence as they waited. He walked over to the open window and leaned against it as he stared out into the garden. The quiet that hung between them felt heavy, and Levy was left to her racing thoughts. She didn't dare to speak, but she was ashamed and embarrassed and above everything else, angry.

At length, Karen arrived, dressed in one of her finest gowns, her hair covered chastely in a heavy silk veil. Her face was painted with smoky kohl around her eyes, her cheeks and lips stained with rose water. Levy knew that even if she'd refused to attend the wedding on her own, she'd waited around sullenly expecting the master to invite her.

Karen walked past Levy, her eyes dressing the girl down mockingly. She walk up to her master, swaying her hips deliberately, half for his benefit and half for Levy's. This was her territory and Levy would know that she had no business trying to take her place.

"You called me, my lord?" she asked sweetly. She curtseyed deeply, her kohl-rimmed eyes lowered demurely as she smiled with satisfied triumph.

"I told you to prepare her," he said, not looking at her.

She smile faded from her lips. "I did, my lord," she insisted, her voice shaking slightly with anger. "I did exactly as you asked."

"She clearly doesn't know what is expected of her," he continued, still staring out at the garden.

"If she is unwilling or unable, that is no fault of mine," Karen retorted, hotly. She walked towards him and reached up to caress his face. "If she displeases you, send her away. I can take care of you, my lord, as I always have done."

Gajeel pushed her hand away and looked over at Levy. She was staring at the floor, her fists balled in anger.

"Then teach her," he said, his eyes still on Levy.

Karen took a step back to steady herself. "What?" she spat, incredulous.

"Teach her what it means to be a concubine," he repeated, turning away from Karen and walking back over to his guitar. He sat down and pulled it into his lap, strumming it quietly.

"Oh," he said, looking over at the girl. "You may go, as you please."

Levy was looking him with contempt in her hazel eyes. She threw down the velvet bag insolently, turned quickly on her heel and fled out the door without excusing herself.

He'd expected she'd react with surprise and some resistance, but he never dreamed she'd be that defiant. If she wanted to put up a fight, he would oblige her. He would play her game. He didn't mind a good chase once in a while. But something about her hostility disconcerted him.

Karen gently pried the guitar out of his hands and placed it on the floor. She slipped into his lap and smoothed her hands over his chest. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the thin linen shirt. He was looking away from her, eyes were unfocused, distracted, uninterested. Karen sat back and uncovered her perfumed hair, dropping her veil carelessly on the marble floor. She ran her fingers through her perfectly waving tresses, wafting the fragrance of sweet lilies towards him.

Gajeel exhaled as he imagined Levy's hair scented with lilies, that it was her tiny, delicate fingers that tugged gingerly at the drawstring of his pants and stroked the soft down below his navel teasingly. He closed his eyes and allowed Karen to kiss his neck softly. She slipped to the floor, her hands pulling down his pants to free him. She kissed the tip of his manhood gently and smiled, satisfied at hearing him gasp at her touch.

"I'm sorry she refused you," she whispered, her voice playful. "But how can my lord think that she could ever replace me?"

The spell was broken at the sound of Karen's voice. He sat up, pushing her away and quickly retying his pants.

Karen was a sad reality compared to his fantasy of the dancing girl.

"Get out," he sighed, not looking at her.

Karen sat back, utterly shocked. She looked at him with a mixture of half horror and half surprise. Gajeel could feel her eyes on him and impatiently pushed himself up and walked out into the garden. Almost running, he made his way down the path towards Jellal's gazebo where he sat in the shadows of the magnolia tress, hoping against reason that he'd catch another glimpse of the dancing girl bathed in moonlight.

* * *

Levy ran out the door and past the waiting Lisanna. Every warm, contented feeling she felt about living in Fairy Tail seemed like it belonged to another lifetime. Her head reeled and she ran down the circuitous, winding hallways back to the seraglio.

In her daze, she stopped and found herself in a hallway she didn't recognize. It was dark and quiet, and not even vaguely familiar to her. She plodded back the way she came and turned down a different hallway. Eventually she wandered down a corridor she recognized as leading to the grand hall. Her head still spinning with confusion, she padded back to the seraglio, lost in thought.

A hand caught hers, and she shook it off, irritated. "Not now, Jet," she said, without thinking.

"Levy," a familiar voice entreated.

She turned around and saw the distraught face of Droy looking at her expectantly.

She froze in disbelief.

"I never thought I'd see you again," he whispered, pulling her into a soft embrace.

His whole body shook with nervous energy, and in her shock she let herself be enveloped in his strong arms.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "They haven't mistreated you, have they?"

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

Droy released her and looked her full in the face. "Come home with me," he begged. "I'll speak to my father. I will work like a slave until I can repay his debt. I will speak to Gajeel, beg him if I have to-"

"Do you know what it means to work like a slave?" she interrupted, unfeelingly. "Could you even know what that means?"

He looked at her, hurt in his eyes. "Levy, I'm sorry. I didn't save you then. I couldn't. I …"

"You were a coward," she said accusingly, her voice barely a whisper. "Where was this resolve when your father decided to take the easy way out and sell me to repay his debts?"

Droy looked down miserably. Levy knew how ashamed he must feel and felt no sympathy. She turned away and continued back towards the seraglio. But that no longer felt like her sanctuary. She couldn't fool herself into thinking it was her home. It was a cage, where she would sit and wait, looking out at a world full of freedom and happiness that would never be hers.

* * *

**A/N: wahhhh, this is super long! I basically word-vomited this in 21 hours straight (yay, three day weekends!) and spent two weeks editing like a mad person. Fun Fact: this chapter in its entirety is as long as the previous chapter combined. Thanks to HeartGold12 for being so sweet and encouraging me this week! And SapphireRose578 for listening to me whine about this. (And really, thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorited! It makes me sososo happy that you like this! I hope you still like it after the next chapter...)  
**

**In one of my lulls of writer's block, I wrote back-stories for all the pairings and was thinking about maybe having bonus chapters about them? Would anyone be interested in that?**


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